


The Respect Of Your Peers

by bzarcher



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Factions, Offering You A Job, Podfic Welcome, Politics, Talon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 07:51:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11550783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bzarcher/pseuds/bzarcher
Summary: Talon crafted Amélie Lacroix into a weapon, and used Widowmaker as their tool. But the new Doomfist saw the potential for a great deal more.





	The Respect Of Your Peers

Widowmaker sat motionless on the single chair inside of her room, as she had been ordered.

She’d completed four hours of live fire exercises, maintained her equipment, eaten her ration, and had nothing to look forward to except for several hours of silence unless her handlers entered to provide her with a mission, or she was allowed to sleep.

Hours alone with her thoughts.

Hours alone with the hard, cold ball of fury that had replaced her heart.

At first, she’d mourned for Gérard. Silently screaming inside, because if she showed anything but the blank mask that Talon demanded of her, she would be punished. Raging at the stupidity of Overwatch for not realizing that she had been twisted into a dagger at his throat. Choking on her own self hatred for what she’d become, and how much she loved the _rush_ of it all despite her loathing.

But it had been almost a year since Talon had picked her up off of the sidewalk in front of her former flat, and Widowmaker no longer hated herself.

Now she took her anger - at Overwatch, at Talon, at the _world_ \- and used it. Channeled it. Directed it.

She was what she had been made into - a peerless weapon, a masterful sniper. Her defeat of Amari had been proof enough of that. She would take pleasure in her gifts and her skills, just as she once had on the stage, but nothing more.

Villiers and his men treated her as little more than a tool, and some day she looked forward to showing them how very wrong they were, but until then every second she spent in this chair was fuel for her rage.

The sound of the door opening grabbed her attention, but Widowmaker did not stop staring at the blank wall in front of her, even as she heard the sound of heavy footsteps, and the door sliding shut once again.

She heard a high pitched whine, followed by a sharp crackling sound. Her nostrils twitched at the scent of ozone and smoke drifting through the air, but she still did not turn, drawing a soft laugh from her visitor, a deep, resonant chuckle.

“You are _very_ good. I’m quite impressed by your ability to focus.”

The footsteps came closer, and a moment later her visitor came into view. A massive, sculpted man with a broad chest and a fearsome golden arm. The new Doomfist...what was the name she had been briefed with after he removed his predecessor? _Akande_ , that was it. Akande Ogundimu.

“They cannot hear or see us any longer,” Akande explained. “You are free to speak if you wish.”

She was not sure what he expected her to say, but she gave him the courtesy of a reaction, tilting her head and examining him thoughtfully as he slowly paced back and forth in front of her.

The pictures she’d been given didn’t really do him justice. The power and danger that Ogundimu radiated had nothing to do with the weapon that encased his arm.

 _His eyes,_ she decided. _The real danger is in his eyes_. Shining with intelligence, clearly capturing every detail before him, but also filled with a ruthless hunger. The eyes of a hunter who was always in search of new prey.

A killer’s eyes, looking deep into her own, and apparently pleased with what he found.

“You’re much smarter than they give you credit for, Lacroix.”

Widowmaker was thankful for her altered heartbeat and breathing, because they kept her from instantly giving away her reaction to hearing even _part_ of her name for the first time in months.

“Villiers insists you are nothing more than a doll, now. Programmable, reasonably flexible, but with no real desires of your own.” Akande gave a soft snort, dismissing the very thought. “They treat you like a machine that happens to need food and water instead of electricity and oil. A waste of such refined talent.”

Her fingers tightened on the armrests of the chair. After a year of this, the naked _respect_ in his voice was more satisfying that the largest ovation she’d ever received at the _Palais._

“You deserve _better_ than this.”

Akande stopped in front of her, one arm crossed over his gauntlet’s wrist, clearly waiting for her response.

She considered attempting to out wait him, but the temptation he was offering her was simply too great to resist. “What do you suggest?”

His lips turned up in a little smile. “As I’m sure you are aware, I have recently been...elevated, within Talon. I have plans for the future of this organization - and the world beyond.” His eyes flashed with intensity, and she felt her heartbeat quicken slightly. “Plans which you could be part of, Lacroix.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And in return…?”

“Privileges. Autonomy. Flexibility.” Akande looked up towards the ceiling. “Help remove the obstacles in my path, and you will never return to this room again.”

He knew the right bait to dangle in front of her, damn him. “How _much_ autonomy?”

“I will arrange for you to have a private residence, funds, and provide you with targets to be eliminated. So long as you deliver results, you may conduct yourself however you like.” His eyes narrowed. “Failure, however, will have consequences.”

 _An offer to make me a dog on your leash,_ she thought, _rather than Villiers’ tool._

She could live with that.

She stood slowly, locking eyes with him as she rose. “I accept.”

 _“Excellent."_  Akande turned, heading for the door. “Come with me, Lacroix. It’s time to go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeaaaaaah, so the new comic came out and _that_ happened. This is meant as a standalone, not connected to any of my other stories, but seems like a good explanation for how Widowmaker evolved from a brutally conditioned killer into the not-quite-an-equal we see in canon.


End file.
